"Circle of Addiction"
5:46 AM Posted In summer , Thorns Edit This 0 Comments »
Sometimes summer gets so circular, you find yourself starting back at the beginning rather than the end rehashing old problems and wondering why they haven't gone away or why no one has made any effort to solve them.
This summer has been weird and I don't know if I'm sad that it's over or not. It was quite arguably one of my most memorable summers and perhaps the best summer yet, but the jury's still out.
I still find myself at the end of the day wondering who I should call to tell it's over: "The sun is gone. Night's fallen. But don't worry, the stars didn't crushed me and the sky that looked so heavy, well it's still on my back and I'm still walking. We'll see just how far I can get."
I feel like a thousand red balloons released into the sky. I'm totally at the whim of something else here. And whether it all stays together or all falls apart sometimes feels as far from my decision as just about anything could be.
So what you do is you keep walking.
You don't keep writing .
Because every time you stop to put the pen down and scrawl something new out you just remember all that you were trying to forget. The weight of a burden that's so heavy you can't even stop to think about it. What that weight is, I don't know. And it isn't that you aren't happy.
It's just you'd gotten so used to putting yourself last and everyone else first. But now there really isn't anyone to put in front of you.
Here you are.
Raw.
Exposed to yourself.
Except there is nothing to be exposed to. You know yourself inside and out and have made your peace. So you're standing in front of the mirror, waiting for judgment to come: "Mirror mirror on the wall..."
But you don't know what your supposed to ask because the only thing you're feeling right now is the guilt of six billion people's problems and not knowing where to begin or even how to attempt to solve them. But that's what you have to do because what else are you supposed to do, except help people?
And sometimes you're forced to wonder about your philosophies because it seems like whenever you go back to the looking-glass it's because you've been screwed over by somebody else. Again and again and again.
And you kind of have to wonder about that but you know you're in the right.
It makes you wonder a lot of things about a lot of people.
Let me go.
This summer has been weird and I don't know if I'm sad that it's over or not. It was quite arguably one of my most memorable summers and perhaps the best summer yet, but the jury's still out.
I still find myself at the end of the day wondering who I should call to tell it's over: "The sun is gone. Night's fallen. But don't worry, the stars didn't crushed me and the sky that looked so heavy, well it's still on my back and I'm still walking. We'll see just how far I can get."
I feel like a thousand red balloons released into the sky. I'm totally at the whim of something else here. And whether it all stays together or all falls apart sometimes feels as far from my decision as just about anything could be.
So what you do is you keep walking.
You don't keep writing .
Because every time you stop to put the pen down and scrawl something new out you just remember all that you were trying to forget. The weight of a burden that's so heavy you can't even stop to think about it. What that weight is, I don't know. And it isn't that you aren't happy.
It's just you'd gotten so used to putting yourself last and everyone else first. But now there really isn't anyone to put in front of you.
Here you are.
Raw.
Exposed to yourself.
Except there is nothing to be exposed to. You know yourself inside and out and have made your peace. So you're standing in front of the mirror, waiting for judgment to come: "Mirror mirror on the wall..."
But you don't know what your supposed to ask because the only thing you're feeling right now is the guilt of six billion people's problems and not knowing where to begin or even how to attempt to solve them. But that's what you have to do because what else are you supposed to do, except help people?
And sometimes you're forced to wonder about your philosophies because it seems like whenever you go back to the looking-glass it's because you've been screwed over by somebody else. Again and again and again.
And you kind of have to wonder about that but you know you're in the right.
It makes you wonder a lot of things about a lot of people.
Let me go.
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